


Minor Delays

by spurious



Category: 8UPPERS, Kanjani8 (Band)
Genre: Car Sex, Crossdressing, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-29
Updated: 2011-07-29
Packaged: 2017-10-21 22:06:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,144
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/230380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spurious/pseuds/spurious
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gratuitous excuse for crossdressing is gratuitous.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Minor Delays

"Couldn't someone else have done this?" Mac says, out of the side of his glossy red-painted mouth. He's holding onto Jacky's arm, tottering a little bit on his high heels.

"We've been over this." Jacky pauses to smile at the doorman. "You were the one who fit into the dress."

Mac makes a noise of annoyance, tugs at the hem. It pulls up a little, showing a flash of pale skin above dark stockings. The doorman waves them through.

"Everyone's _looking_ at me," Mac whines. He's right, heads are turning all around the room as they walk in.

"Maybe they're looking at me," Jacky says. "I look good."

Mac snorts. "So," he says, "where's the guy I'm supposed to flirt with?"

***

There had been a minor argument about who got to do Mac's makeup, but they ended up entrusting it to Toppo, who had a surprising assortment of eyeshadows, glosses, and glitters to supplement the stuff they'd chosen blindly at the drugstore. 

"There," Toppo said with a self-satisfied smile, "all done."

He held out a small hand mirror for Mac to examine his face. Mac held it up, pouting, turning his face from side to side, fluttering his eyelashes. 

"I look slutty," he said, finally.

"Yeah," Toppo said, like Mac had said something extremely stupid, "...and?"

"We wanted you to look slutty, remember?" Jacky said. He was standing behind Toppo, holding up the tight, short red dress Mac was going to wear. Mac made a face, and Jacky bent down to grab his arm, pull him up off the floor. "Come on, you have to get changed."

Mac didn't come out of the bathroom for a while, long enough that Jacky started to think he'd crawled out the tiny window in a desperate bid for escape. 

He came out eventually, though, fully done up in the dress, heels, and a long black wig. He looked good, really good, but also extremely uncomfortable. 

Someone whistled. 

"I'd hit it," Ace mumbled, loud enough that everyone could hear. 

"I'll hit _you_ ," Mac said, glaring. 

***

"How'd it go?" Jacky asks when he and Mac meet up at the entrance an hour later. Mac looks slightly more harried, even more annoyed than he'd been when they arrived, but otherwise the same.

"Fucking _terrible_ ," he complains. "He made me look at his priceless collection of 18th century soup spoons, and then he groped me."

Jacky tries, not too effectively, to stifle a laugh. "Did the fake boobs hold up okay?"

Mac's jaw clenches. "He didn't go for the boobs, he went for my ass."

This time Jacky doesn't even try to hold back his laughter.

Mac glares at him. They're clear of the house, almost to the place where they parked the van. He reaches down the front of his dress, produces something Jacky can't quite make out in the darkness: it has a long, metal handle, little jewels sparkling in it.

"I got a little souvenir, though."

***

Jacky watches Mac's hands on the steering wheel (he'd insisted on driving, thrown his heels into the backseat). He's wearing fake nails that had been a pain to apply, but necessary to cover up the ragged, bitten edges of his real nails. They make his hands look almost elegant, sparkling at the tips of his long fingers.

"Pull over," Jacky says, when they've been driving for about half an hour.

Mac says nothing, doesn't look at him, but he smirks and turns into the nearest darkened parking lot. As he shifts into park, Jacky puts a hand on his thigh, fingertips slipping under the hem of the dress. Mac spreads his legs a little.

"Just couldn't resist me, huh?" he says, quirking an eyebrow.

"You look hot," Jacky says, matter-of-fact. He slides his hand up a little higher, lightly stroking the sensitive skin of Mac's inner thigh. "And besides, everyone else will be jealous I got to you first."

"First?" Mac says, laughter in his voice. "You planning to--" his breath hitches when Jacky's knuckles bump against his cock, "you planning to pass me around or something?"

"Who knows," Jacky says, grinning. Then Mac leans over and kisses him. Jacky can feel the gloss smearing onto his own lips, sticky and artificial, tasting a little like cherry candy. He sucks on Mac's lower lip, biting lightly, until his hips buck up against Jacky's hand. Mac twists in his seat, pushing a hand through Jacky's hair. His nails scrape a little and Jacky shivers.

It's a bit of a tight fit, but they manage alright, ending up with one of Mac's legs slung over the seat back, dress hiked up and underwear dangling off his ankle, as Jacky kneels between his thighs and pushes into him. Mac looks a mess, lipstick smeared around his mouth, wig a bit askew. He closes his eyes once Jacky's all the way in, squeezes at his bicep.

"Fuck," Mac groans, shifting his hips up so Jacky goes just a little bit deeper, " _fuck_ , that feels good."

Jacky pulls out, thrusts back in slowly, watching Mac bite his lip.

Then Jacky's cell phone rings. His pants are around his knees and he feels the vibration against his leg just before he hears the ringer.

"Dammit," he says, pausing and reaching for it.

"Fucking--" Mac squirms under him. "Just leave it. Don't stop."

Jacky groans and starts moving again, this time a little faster.

Mac's just got his hand on his cock when there's a sound from the backseat, muffled a little but unmistakably the sound of Mac's cell phone ringing in his purse.

"Goddamnmotherfucking _fuck_ ," he says, and Jacky reaches over the seat to grab it. He flips the phone open, hands it to Mac. "The fuck you want?" he says into the phone. The hand that's not holding the phone is still wrapped around his cock, holding it loosely. Jacky tries not to move. "Yeah," Mac says vaguely, "everything went fine. No, we just…there's traffic. We'll be back soon." He flips the phone closed, tosses it into the darkness of the backseat.

Jacky shifts forward, just a little, and Mac's head tips back against the window. He closes his eyes.

"Come on," Mac says, eyes still closed. His voice has an air of practiced laziness. "You heard me. We have to be home soon."

Jacky grins, and then he's fucking Mac hard and fast.

***

They'd made an effort to look more put-together, wiped off the lipstick smears and straightened Mac's dress and wig, but there's only so much they can do, and as soon as they walk into the club, Ace is pointing at them, grinning.

"You were having sex!" he shouts. He looks at the others, whose expressions range from surprised to annoyed to amused. "They were totally having sex!"

It's hard to tell because he's wearing rogue, but Jacky thinks he sees Mac blushing.


End file.
